Classroom Number 4 at Horseshoe Bay Academy.

There I was, sitting at my desk during my break period, grading student papers. “One hundred percent. Good work, Shining Ember.”

Now, onto the next student. Okay, let’s start with question one… Ah, that’s right.

‘Find the circumference of Zesty Gourmand’s bowl of Roasted Eggplant Soup.’

How did this student answer?

‘Wow, why don’t we leave the old mare alone and let her enjoy her food? Geez, who cares!’

I slowly glanced up at the name written on the paper.

‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’.

“Haa…” I leaned back in my chair. This could only be the work of… “Jade Rain…”

Central District - Inner Harbor of Baltimare.

Unlike the mayor beneath his patio umbrella, the bright sun beat against us. But the cool breeze abiding the pier fought back.

“...”

Even through the veil of the blanket mask, I could still sense Banafrit’s perplexed look. “Mayor Baltimare? So like, is that his actual name or…?”

“Well, if you must ask—”

“Forget about that, Mayor. I came here for a reason,” I interrupted, staring him in the eye and noticing his reluctance.

“Disturbing my tranquil eating experience, I’d hope so.”

“In terms of bits, I’m in quite the pickle. You see, if I could just receive funding…that’d be phenomenal.”

Mayor Baltimare let out a tired breath. “Hollow Shack, Hollow Shack, Hollow Shack. What am I going to do with you? I only gave you the light of day before because I used to know your grandfather. What makes your business deserving of additional funding compared to other new establishments?”

“You must be jesting. It’s simple. Because my establishment will shine brighter than any other. So bright, it’ll out-pollute the entirety of Baltimare’s nightscape. My customers’ faces will reflect that, in fright. Then pure joy. That’s the confidence I have in my business, mayor. In my Haunted House of Apparitions.” Glancing at Banafrit, I grinned and continued. “And as Mayor Baltimare, that’s something you don’t want to take away from your dear citizens.”

The mayor took a bite of his side dish. Near the table’s edge, a small stand-up menu displayed the specials. It appeared he chose ‘Badderlocks salad.’ He carried on once he swallowed and tapped his mouth with a napkin. “If I do what you say, it would be quite irresponsible of me. But if what you say is true, that certainly would be a major loss on my part. And with that contagious optimism, I just might believe you can pull it off. Fine… I’ll see what I can do.”

“Woohoo! Banafrit, give me a celebratory hug!”

“No, you moron!”

I gave chase. Banafrit evaded, so we ran circles around Mayor Baltimare. As we had our celebratory dance, the mayor left a remark with a forehoof on his forehead. “Just a reminder, Hollow Shack and company. Please report this sort of issue to the local government office rather than contacting me directly.”

Regardless, I didn’t give in. Everypony present must have given us odd stares, but I couldn’t care less. The Pony of Apparitions needed his celebratory hug! “Give up, Banafrit! Embrace me!”

“Shack, you idiot! Use your brain for once!”

With a clink of a glass cup, the brows of Mayor Baltimare tensed. “Will you two get out of here!”

“Sorry.” “Sorry.”

And so we left the pier for Mayor Baltimare to enjoy whatever remained of his delicate meal time.

After Hollow Shack and his blanket-covered companion left, I continued to relish my charred sea greens. “Haa… To be young again. Now, how will things work out for you, my boy?”

As I turned my attention from the young rookie to the vast blue expanse of Horseshoe Bay, a familiar voice breached my ears.

“Well, if it isn’t my old, refined friend. Fancy seeing you here.”

Another unwarranted visitor made himself known. He had a sky-blue coat and a mane striped with white and baby blue.

I looked askance, taking in his violet irises, trademark top hat, tropical-style button-down shirt, and three-star cutie mark. It wasn’t his usual getup. But I understood the reasoning. “Another unwelcomed guest. Honestly...” My gaze shifted to the start of the pier, where brick met weathered planks. “I may have to bring along a retractable stanchion whenever I eat here. Wouldn’t you agree, Jack Pot?”

Jack Pot flicked his mane and chuckled. “Mind if I join you?”

Not wishing to be rude, I exhaled a breath out of my nose and replied, “So be it.”

Jack Pot used magic to summon a posh chair and sat at a 90-degree angle from me. “I’ve been meaning to see you again, my friend. But this sprawling city of yours seems to stretch without end in every direction.” He levitated the special of the day menu to scan its contents. “My, what an exquisite selection. You should have told me of such a place. If I knew, I would have visited Baltimare sooner.”

I locked eyes with one of his, half of his face covered by the small floating menu. “And here I thought your priorities would be elsewhere.”

“And where’s that?” Jack Pot inquired, resting a foreleg on the table. Behind him, some buildings from the other side of the inner harbor loomed larger than life, much like his ego.

“You really don’t know?”

As the small menu rotated, his eyes narrowed.

“Ponyville,” I spat.

A loud guffaw resounded throughout the vicinity, perhaps even Horseshoe Bay, sullying my meal of sea greens. “Hahaha! I have no need to visit such a banal place.”

I shoved my plate to the side. “I see. Perhaps not. Never mind, then.” I downed some cool water, eyed his tropical-styled button-down shirt, and then led on. “How is your retirement treating your stay here in Baltimare?”

With his hind legs still resting on the table, Jack Pot finally put the small menu down and looked at me eye-to-eye. “Excellent. Might I say better than in Las Pegasus? Still grand, but much less chaotic.”

“And how goes your friend?”

“You mean Big Bucks? Well he’s around here somewhere…probably gambling at the shadiest casino around.”

“I must admit, I never expected somepony like you to put your hat down.”

“Why, I’ll still dabble. But there’s nothing left for me to do in life except… unwind. So that’s what I’ll do. Baltimare seemed like the perfect community to accomplish just that.” Jack Pot removed his top hat, a thick roll of paper hovering out and flapping open. “Of course, your lovely home comes with its own set of problems. None that bother me, mind you.”

“…Like what?” I asked, leaning forward and resting my chin atop my forelimbs.

“Hmm…” Jack Pot’s eyes moved side-to-side across the newspaper. “What about this ‘citizens of Baltimare complain about the streets and sidewalk material causing leg and hoof pain’?”

“Just one of the many issues this city is facing. It’s certainly possible. Not all our sidewalks are uniform or up to standard.”

“Any plans to deal with it?”

“Not all of my beloved citizens are happy. Of course there is. But it would be expensive. Currently, I can help advocate for one of three ideas. Ignore the issue, develop a special type of shoe, or replace the sidewalks with a more favorable substance. Anything other than concrete.”

The moment Jack Pot realized I had solutions, any hints of interest he had vanished from his face. So, with a page rustle, he returned to reading the rather out-of-date Equestria Daily newspaper. “Let’s see… the School of Friendship begins another summer term… Whinnyapolis noodles are still the best noodles across Equestria…” Flip. “Under the lead of royal guards Flash Sentry and Gallus, the search for Tempest Shadow continues… Sombra is still missing… Blah, blah, blah. Where was it? Ah, found it! ‘The annual Baltimare Entertainment Industry Competition is poised for another thrilling year. This yearly event sees businesses in performing arts, night economy, and attractions competing to bring the most smiles.’ What an amusing concept!”

A single brow lifted. “Oh? Are you planning to join the fray?”

The newspaper rolled back up and returned beneath Jack Pot’s yellow top hat. “Heavens, no! I meant it when I said I’m retiring. However, I will most definitely be checking out the results. I’ll even stand aside and partake in the experience myself.” A bombastic smile made home on his face. “After all, as a newcomer to Baltimare, I feel that doing this will help me properly appreciate everything this city has to offer.”

“In that case, I look forward to your findings. We have quite the interesting folk in the industry.”

“Oh…? Like that gentlecolt you spoke with before?”

“Precisely.”

“And what sort of entertainment does he exhibit?” Jack Pot pressed.

My basic response came with ease. “A haunted house.”

Boisterous laughter erupted from Jack Pot, joining the perpetual squawks of the seagulls. “HAHAHAHA!! A haunted house?! Against theaters, comedy shows, dance performances, magic shows, and other such establishments under Celestia’s sun and Luna’s moon?!” Jack Pot had to take a deep breath before continuing. “Hahaha! Why even bother?! Hahahaaa…! Big Bucks would pay to hear about this!”

Patrons from the alfresco just a short distance away heard our commotion. Their conversations halted, and their eyes stuck to us. Anyhow, I ignored them and responded with directness. “Perhaps you’re right. However, Jack Pot…”

“Hm?” Jack Pot rubbed tears away and glimpsed at me.

“You’ll do well not to underestimate him.”

Silence crept in, thickening the intense atmosphere between us. For that brief instance, only the rhythmic laps of Horseshoe Bay beating against the weathered pier and the patio umbrella catching drafts loitered.

Jack Pot steadied his gaze. “You believe in the boy? How very amusing. Pray tell his name?”

I shook my head. “No need. When the time is right, you’ll hear it.” Then I looked upward, only catching the pitch-black underside of the patio umbrella.

So bright, it’ll out-pollute Baltimare’s nightscape, will it?

“You’ll hear it loud and clear.”

With a sudden scrape of the wood pier, Jack Pot abruptly left his chair and cantered toward the restaurant. Before disappearing, he cast a sly smirk back. “Hmph. I can’t wait.”

In due time, his clops receded.

So, she still hasn’t come to see you… With it being so obvious, I can’t believe you’ve never taken notice. Or maybe I can. You were always quite the oblivious one in your own unique ways.

I leaned back in my thatched seat. “Sss… Haa… Guess I’m ready for the bill. I have work to do.” While boats dotted the waters of Horseshoe Bay, my standby for the waitress began. Then I noticed a peculiar sight from another pier.

Hold on… Is that yellow stallion throwing string into the bay? What an odd hobby…

Instead of returning to my lovely haunted attraction, Banafrit and I trotted across the Central District for about an hour. We had rendezvoused with Mayor Baltimare at the Central District’s Inner Harbor. We were now on the outskirts of the Southwestern District—not too far from the Southern and Central Districts. Each district had its similarities and differences. The Central District was always lively and had many high-style attractions. However, the Southwestern District had many green spaces and outdoor activities. Not to mention various neighborhoods, each with its distinct feel, formed a solid community that loved hosting productive community meetings once every month.

We didn’t venture deep into the cityscape and stayed within the Southwestern District’s outskirts.

Why?

I wanted to show Banafrit the lovely place Baltimare was—not from the outside, but from the inside. She thought it was a great idea and wanted to discuss it further.

So we discussed.

Southwestern District - The Mile One Express.

A slow rumble resonated from below. The blue sky remained still as the image of Baltimare kept moving and changing from the dynamic, rectangular window beside us. Banafrit and I sat across from each other on plush, blue and white checkered seats, alone at the end of a passenger carriage.

We were on the first railroad constructed in Equestria. Usually, the train ride included the occasional chatter of the conductor on the PA system. However, since some passengers preferred to just sit back and enjoy the ride, view, and possibly the company of a friend instead, Baltimare’s Railroad Museum decided to offer times when the PA system remained silent.

The Mile One Express ride. It was a relatively peaceful outing. Pony murmurs intermittently broke out from behind, sometimes questioning why Banafrit was draped in a white sheet.

With a vacant seat beside us each, I stared at the derpy black dots drawn onto the billowing sheet’s face and smiled.

“What are you giving me that creepy look for?” Banafrit asked, cringing.

My head tilted sideways and settled my gaze to the right. “Creepy? It’s not creepy. I just really like being with you. That’s all.”

“We’ve known each other for less than a day,” Banafrit stated.

I crossed my hooves and leaned further into the passenger seat. “Friends have to start somewhere. And we happened to start very early.”

Banafrit released a huff and remained on topic. “So we’re in the Southwestern District now. You said that it has a strong community, right?”

“That it does,” I answered, fervently nodding. “Among others like the Western District.”

I couldn’t tell behind the sheet, but I had a gut feeling that Banafrit narrowed her gaze behind those black dots. “Wait, the Western District, too? Isn’t that where your haunted house is?”

Askance, my lips sucked inward. “Maybe…”

“Hollow Shack!” Banafrit practically levitated from the last-minute information. “Why did we bother coming to this district then?”

“Don’t worry about it; we’re here now, right?” I said, shrugging.

Banafrit sighed again. “We… are. Oh, Celestia, pull my tail off.” Banafrit then portrayed the movement of rubbing her nonphysical temples. “Okay, since we have to hold off on improving anything financially and wait for ‘Mayor Baltimare’s’ oh-so-charitable donation, we’ll have to do something with our own hooves.”

At that, I scratched my head with a hoof. Banafrit understood the gesture and continued. “Community engagement and marketing. Which, for us, will just be pandering ponies to give your haunted house a shot. And since you’re… you, we can take advantage of that and show the Southwestern community how… ahem… Likable—”

I leaped out of my seat and lobbed my top hat into the air. “I ammm—?”

Crookedly, the thrown top hat landed atop Banafrit’s head. “Can be.”

An upside-down U curled my lips.

The Mile One Express ride casually perused through Southwestern Baltimare. We passed a red brick building with a fenced enclosure of green space.

Baltimare sure does love its red brick.

Fillies and colts galloped around, kicking a red dodgeball sprinting around a miniature baseball field, moving down vibrant, sun-glinted plastic slides, swaying on swings, chatting beneath a tree’s shade, engaging in merry-go-rounds, climbers, and exploring elevated platforms. A mare approached the children with a levitated box filled with colorful, flat plastic tubes. The first to arrive each received one and bit into them.

For now, they all had zero worries other than having pure fun—which reversed the upside-down U on my face.

“How long is this ride?” Banafrit asked.

“Usually twenty to thirty minutes.”

“Not bad. Since you know more about Baltimare, do you have any ideas on where to start? We passed by multiple neighborhoods to get here.”

I brought a hoof to my chin and repeatedly tapped it. Then, a sudden remembrance struck me. “Ooh! Perhaps toward Hooveland Street.”

“Hooveland Street it is then.”

The train passed by strips of track ballast, the railroads relatively barren and inactive, leading to a rail-served warehouse.

Soon enough, our train made its round back to the Baltimare Railroad Museum. Everypony exited and reentered the museum building. Ponies observed various types of trains—the interior resembling a railroad roundhouse. The air inside was rather stuffy and had a twinge of dustiness, but just the right temperature. Banafrit and I were the last trotting passengers arriving at the museum’s center.

As our hooves clopped on the smooth plank floor, we sauntered to the exit. Daylight reintroduced itself to our eyesight, and we made our way across the street and along the sidewalk. A neighborhood of nice red brick apartments wasn’t too far and within eyesight. The avenue of homes were conjoined and tightly knit. Every door seemed to differ in color. Lampposts and slim trees were placed intermittently along the sidewalk. And decorations from Nightmare Night were still up.

Now that I thought about it, it must have been an extremely profitable location for candy hunters. Once they trotted to one door, another colorful door awaited a few steps away.

In our favor, residents were outside enjoying each other’s company.

I lifted the brim of my top hat a smidge. “This is my time to shine.”

Southwestern District - Hooveland Street.

A keeling sign intended for carriages stood.

‘NO STOPPING.’

Somepony should fix that. It’s practically knocked over.

Banafrit and I perused the avenue’s sidewalk, approaching three older mares sitting on porch chairs. They were conversing with one another, not heeding our gradual approach.

“My precious little pumpkin is having a filly of her own now. Oh, how time flies!”

“And before you know it, that filly will have grown by the time you see her, hahaaaa!”

“Ugh, here we go with the old mare talk. I hate the old mare talk. We still got tons of juice.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe we want to be old?”

“Yeah, maybe we want to be old.”

“What the hay?! Do you hear yourselves?!” The distraught mare threw apples at the other two mares from the woven basket on the concrete. “Myeh! Don’t you dare try to contaminate me with that!”

“Ah! She’s at it again!”

“Hello, mistresses,” I said, tipping my top hat to them. “Have you seen a rather delightful fellow named Phantombeak?”

A hoof holding an apple stopped midair while the other mares cringed back. “Phantombeak? That griffon nutcase?” The mare shot a scrutinizing eye and slowly aimed the apple at me. “Who’s asking?”

In the groove, I prepared my showpony pose. “Hollow—”

“Yeah, I don’t really care, he usually hangs in the alleyways around here. But if you don’t see him, he’s probably in the alley of the nearest run-down factory building.”

“Gotcha!” I exclaimed and sprinted off. Banafrit followed closely.

One of many alleyways on Hooveland Street.

We were currently in the last alley of red brick walls, searching through every single one in the neighborhood, but no dice on Phantombeak’s presence.

“Is this Phantombeak guy really gonna help?” Banafrit asked, taking the opportunity to float a smidgen off the ground.

“What do you think of his hobby?”

“He likes to creep around shady, dirty places?”

I stood upright and rocked a forehoof. “Tsk-tsk-tsk! You really shouldn’t let your sentiments rule over your assumptions.”

“You gonna spill or leave me hangin’?”

“Phantombeak gets around.”

“And if we get somecreature like him to assist us here in the Southwestern District, we can refocus our efforts to the Western District!”

“Yep!”

A subtle breeze flew in and fluttered my cape.

“...You didn’t think of that, did you?”

“I did!”

“Don’t you lie to me!” Banafrit shouted, taking her white sheet off and swinging it at me.

The soft slap tickled my muzzle. But my concerns had me close my eyes from the action.

“What are you—?” Like her head, Banafrit’s voice lowered. “Again? You really are an idiot.”

Southern District.

Banafrit and I ended up crossing into the Southern District. We were now on the other side of the Inner Harbor from where we conversed with Mayor Baltimare. But we weren’t there for the view of Horseshoe Bay. No-no-no. We were on the lookout for a griffon named Phantombeak. He was not the sort to stand still.

Since he wasn’t in the Southwestern District avenues, the Southern District was the second-best choice for one reason.

Banafrit and I stood behind a black steel fence and stared at a factory building. On top was a steel-structured billboard with the words ‘Domino Sugars.’ It was a sugar refinery named after an old earth pony stallion everypony nicknamed ‘The Black Whirlwind’ due to his speed.

But we weren’t there for the historical significance. Let’s just say everypony in Baltimare had their strange habits.

Banafrit wasted no time in phasing through the black fence. I teleported along with the white sheet Banafrit left behind. I tossed it back over her and trotted onward.

Most of the refinery’s exterior was aged red brick, while the rest were made of white steel. Trotting across the grey expanse, we closened our approach. No employees appeared to be outdoors, so our trot went relatively smoothly.

Soon enough, we reached the refinery’s brick wall and ducked from the many windows. We then trotted along closely until we reached the corner. I peered over. Since the coast was clear, I continued along that wall until I reached an opening. Again, I peered over. The slim rectangle of an alleyway had dirty, cracked ground.

In the alleyway, brick walls surrounded us. One side had a steel shutter and levels of windows staring down. The other side had steep stairs leading to a door. Straight ahead beneath a patio-esque ceiling of brick was a dumpster. Near the dumpster, another staircase led to a steel door.

For whatever reason, it was an abandoned loading bay.

But what caught my utmost attention was the grey griffon sleeping atop the cracked concrete, surrounded by white dust and merchandised paper bags.

From our position, Banafrit surveyed the memorable scene. “Shack, is that…sugar?”

“What else could it be?” I asked, trotting up to the sleeping griffon.

Banafrit floated over and examined Phantombeak’s comatose expression. “Yeah, he’s dead.”

I levitated the white crystalline substance and brought it up to my muzzle. “Hmm…”

“Shack… don’t you dare…”

I stuck my tongue out and... “Yep, that’s sugar alright.”

Banafrit released a breath of relief.

I shook Phantombeak’s body. Soon enough, his eyelids opened to the sight of two friendly visitors.

“Wha… Stay… Stay away from my cane sugar!” In haste, Phantombeak arose from slumber and quickly gathered his sugary products. He then studied our body features. “Oh, it’s you.”

“That’s not exactly the most welcoming ‘it’s you,’ Shack.”

“Well…”

“Stop!” Phantombeak raised a halting talon. “Don’t bother yapping off-topic; just tell me what you’re here for.”

I told Phantombeak everything about my situation and how helpful it would be to have somepony spread the word about my haunted house. The entire time, Phantombeak kept a skeptical glare.

“So, you think you could do that for me old pal?” I asked, smiling.

“Why should I? What do I get out of it?”

“Well I know you like sharing information!”

“Mhm…”

“Aaaand I heard griffons enjoy eating fish back in Griffonstone. So if you help me, you could go fishing with a friend and me some time.”

“Free fish? Here in Baltimare? You should’ve said so earlier. Deal!”

Coming to an agreement, we had performed a hoof and talon shake of approval. It went more smoothly than I anticipated, but Phantombeak told us he would get onto it pronto and do what he could. With that brief quest done, Banafrit and I returned to Stable Stay.

Since I had been fortunate enough for Banafrit to wake me up earlier than usual, my third-shift-prone body caught up. I yawned, trotting through the lounge, a familiar feminine voice calling for me.

“Hollow there, Shack and friend. You want to try a new cookie recipe of mine?” she said.

I redirected my drowsy gaze and saw it was none other than hotel chef Marbalee, most commonly known as Marble Loaf. She was a young adult mare wearing a black and red chef uniform with yellow buttons. She had a beige coat, and a two-toned brown mane sat beneath her chef beret.

Behind the buffet lounge counter guarding the entrance to the kitchen, Marbalee stood before a munching Dappy Aid. A waft of the hotel’s buffet area guided me to them.

Seeing our arrival, Marbalee smiled and spun a full plate of desserts atop her hoof. “This here is my new and improved Berger Cookie—now includes carrots from the best carrot farm, which happens to be near the best apple farm in Equestria… That’s right, Ponyville’s Sweet Apple Acres.”

With his mouth full, Dappy Aid nommed away. “There… so good…”

Banafrit however, had a mouthful of disgust. “I’m good.”

“Not entirely sure I’m in the mood for dessert right now, to be frank. Now that I think about it, I haven’t much to eat. I’d rather have some lunch,” I stated.

“Well there’s still some buffet awaitin’,” Marbalee gestured her forelimbs out like wings and aimed them in every direction. “Then you can try the cookies after. I made two versions: dough with a carrot base and the other where the icing has it instead.”

Judging from the color, half of the cookies had a darker dough, while the others had an off-colored chocolate icing. Since she went through the trouble of baking them, I figured having one of each flavor wouldn’t hurt after having my lunch, of course.

When I finished lunch, Marbalee brought me a plastic zip bag to put my desserts in. With the plastic bag of cookies in tow, I started my trot toward the carpeted stairs.

“You and your friend don’t want to give me a hoof in the kitchen, Hollow Shack?”

“No, no…” I replied.

“Oh, oh, I will, Marbalee!” Dappy Aid said, waving a forehoof in the air.

“Not you!” Marbalee shouted, slapping Dappy Aid with a plate. “Especially after last time.”

Dappy Aid picked up his fallen hat and rubbed his cheek. “Ow… Why do you do that? You always hit me with whatever you can find…”

“Apologies, Dappy, but you called for it!”

“Huh?!”

Marbalee’s furrowed her brows, her teeth turning into razors. “Don’t you think I haven’t remembered you eating raw ingredients for a guest’s wedding cake?!”

When Marbelee’s plate went in for another slap, she stopped, Dappy Aid frozen in fright.

As I was trotting away, Marbalee took notice of something and directed her words at me. “Hey, wait, Hollow Shack…”

I peered over. “Hm?”

“Where did your friend go?”

I scanned my surroundings. Banafrit and her Nightmare Night attire were nowhere to be seen.

“I’m sure she just went to her hotel room. I-I’ll go check.”

Disappointingly, I watched as Hollow Shack ascended the hotel’s carpeted staircase. “Aw, I wanted to know what she would’ve thought about my food. I should ask for her room number. Good thing I have the best concierge in Baltimare amongst my peers! Tell me, you recognize her, right, Dappy?”

“Actually…” Dappy Aid cocked his head to the side. “No, I don’t. We don’t have somepony like that staying in our hotel.”

“What? Maybe you’re off your game today.”

Surely he was. The pony was wearing a Nightmare Night costume.

“No way in Celesssstia. Even with that ghost costume, I should’ve recognized them. Everypony has a distinct aura to them. I’ve never felt an aura like that from our guests. Ever! And that pony’s aura felt cold… It gives me the heebie-jeebies.” He rubbed himself as if he had a shiver come over his body.

“But, if that’s true, then who were they?” My face changed from one of woeful curiosity to a deadpan.

Dappy Aid stopped insulating himself. “W-what?”

“Auras? You’re yanking my tail.”

And so, all the guests present in the lounge were taken aback by the pleasant shatters of a plate against a skull.

I cantered up the carpeted stairs up multiple floors. I reached the fourth floor and galloped to room number thirty. I then entered the room key into the doorknob and turned it. Once inside, I looked around.

It was a small room and took less than fifteen seconds.

Initially, I figured Banafrit just got tired of me running into friends and returned to my hotel room alone. But if that weren’t the case, maybe she went back to the haunted house?

Either way, my heart felt a little heavy on my bed in that room. I unzipped the plastic bag Marbalee gave me and levitated a Berger cookie out.

Crunch!

Mm, that is really good.

Soon after, I delved into slumber.

Baltimare City Hall, Mayor Baltimare’s office.

I say it’s about time I head home.

Today, I attended far too many meetings and events. But I put up with it for the city and the civilians I love. Currently, nighttime covered Baltimare’s skies, casting an eerie darkness into the interior of my office from the bay window behind my desk. And the casual blended scent of paper and ink filled the placid room.

Unexpectedly, beside my black office chair and desk of files and envelopes, I saw a figure come into the frame of my mirror’s reflection. Without turning around, I delivered a humorless tone. “And who may you be?”

To signify his arrival from the bay window, the figure plopped their hooves on the floor. “One of two deputy directors for my agency.”

A middle-aged stallion’s voice. Presuming he’s no liar, I should take this opportunity to learn some important details.

“Is this ‘agency’ in Baltimare?”

He picked up the name plate stand on my desk and examined it. “We have branches, but none here in Baltimare.”

Strange… Normally I wouldn’t be here at these hours. Was he in search of something in my office? But what?

“Then what exactly is your reasoning for being here? In my city? Because if you’re here for anything immoral—”

Phh!

With an interruptive clack, the name plate returned to its proper place. “Nothing of the sort, mayor.”

I turned around and locked my eyes on the shadowed figure.

“We’re an agency for the sole benefit of Equestria. Our goal is to keep all of Equestria safe.”

“And what good you must be doing, with these ponies in the Equestria Daily having gone missing and all.”

From his voice, he clearly snickered. “Heh, I wonder about that.”

What?

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Stay on topic here, Mayor Baltimare. You’re city—no, civilian’s lives depend on it.”

My brows flattened. “Then tell me already. Why are you in my city?”

“Ghost,” he coldly forenamed.

“Mm.”

I didn’t have a particular fear or belief in ghosts or anything supernatural. However, when that middle-aged stallion uttered the word, it sent me a chill—a raw coldness from the bottommost depths of my being.

“You’d be right to feel sick at the mere mention. And at what a time, too, with Nightmare Night wrapping up last moon.”

“And you’re sure it’s here?”

“I have my just suspicions. My best guesses are here and Fillydelphia.”

“What makes you think it would stay in Equestria?” I asked. I would have departed for the sun and never looked back if it were me.

“Because it can’t leave Equestria. And since it’s a ghost pony, I have a feeling it’ll want to stick close to home. Surely, it’ll be looking for some physical host to inhabit.”

“So you’re here to dispose of it?”

“That’s right. Once we do, we’ll get out of your mane.”

“Fine. But what is your purpose for reaching out to me? What is your ulterior motive?”

“Well, it would’ve been rude otherwise, wouldn’t it? But you’re right; there is something else. See, I’m using many of my available resources to find this ghost pony in Fillydelphia. It’ll take a bit before I can use those resources here.”

“And?”

“Well, Mayor Baltimare…” Still cloaked in the night’s darkness, the deputy director approached. “Have you seen it?”

I thought the question over, but there was little to consider. “No, I can’t say I have.”

A moment of silence flattened the dark space.

“I see. Then my work here is done.”

The deputy director stepped out of my office’s bay window, took out a grappling hook, and placed it on the frame’s ledge.

“That’s it?” I asked.

“For now. I got what I needed. We will be seeing each other again.”

The intrusive stallion descended and left. As I contemplated, I continued to gaze at the moon through the bay window.

I don’t have a good feeling about this.

It was a silent black night in Baltimare. For personal reasons, I found myself disliking the city’s name, despite it being my first time there.

Even so…

Amidst contemplation, I sat on a bench surrounded by white, multi-floor, smooth-cut stone facilities. The streets and sidewalks were clean, but the lampposts lit the empty lanes with soothing intervals of white glows.

But from the bushes across the street, I spotted a familiar figure moving away from the governmental facility. I abandoned my bench and hurried toward him. “Deputy Director Afield, did everything go as planned?”

Deputy Director Afield continued trotting like it was a casual night stroll. “Yes, I got what I needed for now. But I’ll be returning to base for a little bit.”

Returning to HQ? Already?

“Do you need me to accompany you?”

“No need. Continue your investigation here.”

While trotting alongside him, I gestured a bow. “Yes, sir.”

“Oh, and Agent Glace, Mayor Baltimare is a suspect. Do with that what you will.”

“Yes, sir.”

I watched Deputy Director Afield trot away. Unexpectedly, a hint of life returned to the once dull street. A taxi stallion galloped past a bank building, then me, then turned around.

“Need a lift, miss?”

I could rest for the night. I have quite the day ahead of me.

Beneath the low light of a lamppost, I looked at the taxi stallion and smiled. “That would be great, thank you.”

Author's Note

Much like the prequel, I wanted a chapter with the haunted house in action. But I'll do that in a later chapter. Maybe 4 or 5? Possibly even a Trixie-focused chapter? I also forgot to mention that I wanted to see how I would write a story within a city setting. Again, I'm unsure if I'm doing too much or too little...?

And I already have an idea of what I want to do for Chapter 2: 'The Night World of Baltimare —Hum of Neon—.'

Until then...

And yes, a particular character has shown up near this chapter's ending!